Just Jude
by FlyUsOutOfHere
Summary: Beaten and bruised Jude is taken into the Adams Foster family, where his long-lost sister lives. Callie has been with the Adams Fosters since she was eleven, and now she is seventeen, happy, adopted, and well cared for. But Jude was never as lucky as Callie. Now, Jude is 13. Will Jude and Callie reconnect? *SolitaryRainbow made this. I am SolitaryRainbow. I made a new account,
1. Chapter 1

I almost forgot what number foster home that I am currently going to. But then I remembered: number 14. How could I forget? Ten homes ago, I was with Callie. That had been a bad home for Callie. The foster parents were nice, and the foster brother was nice to me, but not to Callie. Something happened that made us get moved, and Callie wouldn't tell me. But I know what happened. After #4, Sandra, our old social worker, separated us to 'better my chances of adoption.' Yeah, right. So, seven-year-old me and ten-year-old Callie were separated. I went to #5 by myself, and who knows where Callie went. #5 was okay at first, but then stupid little kid me decided to try on the foster mother's dress, and everything went to hell from there. I was removed a little less than a year later. I had one home when I was nine, two when I was ten, one home and juvie at 11, three homes at twelve, and two, going on three since I turned 13 in February. Now it's October. Not one of my homes post-Callie has been decent. I highly doubt this one will be okay. There's probably a one-in-a-million chance that they'll feed me, or that they won't hit me. You see, almost all of my past foster homes have thought that I'm gay, which is the main reason of them hitting me. I don't know if I'm gay, but I sure hope not, considering that I get beaten if anyone even thinks that I am. Bill, the social worker I've had since Callie and I were separated, has been telling me this whole car ride that this family is really good, that they've adopted three other kids from the foster system, that I have to be good. I mean, it's cool that they've adopted kids, but their adopted kids are them, and I'm me. Bill's also been telling me that if this home doesn't work out, 'he'll be forced to place me in a group home or juvie.' Wow, Bill. I'm really sorry that you have the weight of my future over your shoulders because I am sure that me going to a group home or juvie will affect you a lot more than me, right?  
I've been to juvie before, but only once. And it was stupid that I was even there in the first place. I was 11, and I got busted for running away and stealing a bag of potato chips from a gas station. Stealing was justified because I was practically starving to death since I was living on the streets for about two weeks or so before I got caught. And running away was definitely justified. The home I was in was the worst one I had been in. I haven't been to a worse one yet. The parents were very religious, and let's just say that they didn't like my 'gay, tranny, femme' personality all that much (their words, not mine.) Anyways, Bill says I'm lucky that I even got any more foster homes after juvie. Yeah, Bill, I sure am lucky. I haven't had a place to call home since I was four years old, and I don't even remember what home is supposed to feel like. Whenever Callie and I were in a bad place, she would tell me stories about Home. I always thought she was making them up; I mean, there can't be a place that good, can there? I guess I'll never home. Even though I don't know what Home is, I hope that Callie found a place like that. All I want for Callie, even now, is for her to be happy, so I really hope she is.  
"Jude, we're here, let's go," Bill says as he stops the engine. I blink out of my daze and look out the window. We are in the middle of a really nice-looking suburban neighborhood. I'm shocked; all of my homes have either been in Chula Vista or San Ysidro, except for #4. If you didn't know, San Ysidro and Chula Vista are two of the shittiest towns in this area. I look at the house in front of us, which I assume is my new foster family's house. It's huge, almost as big as #4, and #4 had seemed like a mansion. But it looks cozy and warm, too, not too big and fancy.  
"Come on, Jude, they're expecting us," Bill said as he closed his door. I step out of the car and follow him. We go to the porch and Bill knocks.  
"Okay, Jude. This family is great, but you need to be on your best behavior. No talking back, no cursing, no sarcasm, nothing. Understand?" Bill says quietly, and I just nod. It's hard to be polite, but I'll try if it means having a decent home for a little while. Even if they are nice, I know it won't last. Like #2; they were great and were going to adopt us. But they were too old to adopt us (according to CPS), and we got taken away and moved to #3, which was one of the worst ones. That's when I learned nothing good ever lasts for more than a year. I was five.  
A few seconds later, the door opens. A tall, dark woman with long, bushy brown hair and a kind smile stands there, next to a shorter, light woman with short, bright blonde hair and caring eyes. It's kind of weird, seeing them. They look too happy and kind, and just friendly to be real.  
"Hey there, Bill! And you must be Jude! Come in, come in!" the blonde lady says a little too enthusiastically. I follow Bill inside and look around. There is clutter everywhere; there's a piano overflowing with music sheets in the corner, a half-empty bottle of blue nail polish on an ottoman, a skateboard over by the back door, and what seems like millions of fashion and sports magazines are spread all around. The blonde lady must notice me staring because she smiles and winks; yes, winks, at me. "Sorry for the mess, Jude. With four teenagers, there's no way to stop it," she, the darker woman, and Bill all laugh. I don't see what's so funny, so I don't laugh. "Well, Jude, my name is Stef and this is my wife Lena." the blonde woman says. Or, I guess, Stef says. I'm surprised; I don't know what I thought the women were, but I definitely didn't think they were wives. Well, at least they can't punish me for being gay (if I am) since lesbians can't be homophobic, right?  
"Kids! Get down here!" Stef yells, and I hear four pairs of feet tumble down the stairs. Two boys, and two girls.  
"Jude, this is Brandon, Stef's son from her previous marriage," Lena said as she pointed to the taller one, with shaggy brown hair. I get the feeling that he's the one responsible for the sheet music everywhere. "He's seventeen. And these are the twins, Jesus, and Mariana, we adopted them about eight years ago." "We're fifteen," a short girl wearing a designer (I think?) sweater and a lot of makeup says. She must be Mariana. "And this is Callie, we adopted her about five years ago," the black woman (Lena?) says. I suddenly look up at the girl they're talking about. She looks like...Callie?!


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I'm sorry I didn't notice the formatting mistake; it should be all fixed now. If people like Chapter 2, Ill continue. If not, I wont. Please leave any questions/comments/ideas/criticisms/etc. in the comments. Thanks!**

 **-Rowan**

It can't be Callie, it just can't. I simply refuse to think that this doe-eyed girl in front of me is my sister. I mean, I haven't seen her since she was around eleven, and who knows how much she might have changed? But I just get a feeling, that this girl, this happy, comfortable girl standing in front of me is my sister. She must feel it too because her eyes widen in what I think is shock.  
"Jude?" She gasps, and I give her a slight nod. I am now 100% sure that this is Callie, my Callie, by the sound of her voice. Nobody has the same voice as hers. She comes towards me and wraps me in a hug. Her arms are warm and welcoming, but I can't. I can't, I don't want to be touched. So I back away, trying not to hurt her feelings, but too late. I can see the hurt in her eyes, and I am sorry. But the last time someone gave me a hug was not a good experience, and I'm sorry, but I don't want to deal with touch. Touch is completely unnecessary, like how talking is. Sometimes I talk, but I find it way easier to just go along with things, to not have a voice. When I was nine, I was really talkative, and I talked about everything. And I mean, everything. Apparently, my foster dad got fed up after a few weeks, and that's when the beatings started. Or, I mean, the beatings from him started. Those were definitely not my first.  
Anyways, I just learned that is way easier to just...not talk, than it is to get in trouble for, and most likely beaten for, talking back or having a bad attitude. Except when I got in trouble for 'ignoring them.' But that's where all of my former foster parents were wrong; I could hear them loud and clear, and I was fully absorbing what they said, I just didn't respond. But they didn't care. I mean, who did back then? Whoever did? There have only been three people in the entire world who have ever truly cared for me: My mother, who died in a car accident right before we were placed in the foster system, Callie, and my ex-foster brother, Ian. Ian would be sixteen by now, I think. Ian is (was?) the biological son of my ex-foster mother. That was one of the worst homes I'd been in, and I was only ten. I won't go into detail, but it was bad. But Ian was always there for me, and I felt truly loved for the first time in years, for the first time since Callie left. But after things got too bad, Ian convinced me to run away with him. And that's why I went to juvie, for that and for stealing. Ian had sent me into the store to get food, and once he saw the cop cars, he must've panicked and ran for it. I'm not mad at him, at least not anymore. But I just hope he's okay.  
I was suddenly pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of Stef clearing her throat. Callie was still staring at me, a concerned look in her eyes. She must see the old scars and my most recent bruising. I notice that the women and the other kids are staring at us./p  
"Do you two know each other?" Stef asked, clearly awkward.  
"Yeah, Mom, this is my brother, Jude. The one I told you about," Callie said. Mom? Why is Callie calling this woman, this absolute stranger, Mom?  
"Oh," Stef said, and her hard expression immediately softened. "Well, welcome, Jude. Lena, would you mind taking the kids somewhere, to a movie or something? I would like to talk to Callie and Jude if that's okay?"  
"Of course, honey," Lena said as she grabbed her purse. Mariana did the same, and the boys followed.  
"Jude, are you hungry?" Stef asked gently as she walked into the kitchen. As if on cue, I followed. I shrugged in response. I couldn't just take their food, could I?  
"You sure?" she asked again.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," I whisper, and oh shit, it's happening. Sometimes I choose not to talk, but sometimes I just automatically shut down. It's only happened a few times, but I hate it. I hate not being in control of my own voice. Because when I shut down, I cannot talk, no matter how hard I try, it just won't happen. And if this family is like the last one, then I am mortally screwed.  
But I don't think this home is the same as the others. I mean, Callie and the other kids seemed to feel safe, and they looked well-fed and happy. And they didn't seem to be in pain! Like, no bruises or anything! That's a first. But I know that I'm just hoping they're different when I know they can't be. I am Jude Jacob, and I am pretty much the most unlucky person I know. So if the most unlucky person on the face of the earth is placed in home #14, it obviously is going to be a bad one, just like the last dozen./p  
Suddenly, Stef reached out and grabs my arm. Shit! I was not expecting that! I jerk back and stand up straight, to make myself look taller. It's practically instinct by now. I think Callie notices the fear in my eyes because she starts crying. And I don't know what to do, I've never been good with people! Stef and Callie sit down at the counter, and I stand awkwardly next to the fridge.  
"What happened to you, Jude?" Callie asks me once she calmed down. I shrug. I don't know what happened, Callie. Maybe I was left alone, by you, in the foster system for, I don't know, seven years?! But I can't get mad, Callie's the one who stood by me since I was born and protected me since we entered the system. I'm honestly glad that Callie is happy. She deserves it. I don't. Simple as that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! I just want to thank everyone for reviewing, reading, favoriting, and following! It really means a lot. I will try to update at least once a week, but life might get in the way. If it does, I'm sorry.**

 **Potato Lover 2.0: Im glad you like it! I'm planning on using Noah (I'm not a huge fan of Connor), Taylor, and Aaron, and maybe some of my own characters. I don't know if I should have Noah be Jude's boyfriend, though. And Aaron won't be Callie's boyfriend, cuz I just don't think they would've dated if Callie had been adopted way earlier. But yeah, thanks for reviewing!**

 **Lonewritertx: Thank you! I'll try my best to continue writing!**

 **DawnB: Thank you!**

 **Any ideas? Feel free to review! (reviews make me happy!)**

 **-Rowan**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Fosters or any of its** characters

"So, Jude, this is your room. You're sharing with Jesus," Stef says, leading me through to a large, messy room with two beds. Callie had immediatly went to her room after our...coversation in the kitchen, so it was just me and Stef. Stef seems way too nice. If I'm being completely honest, I'm worried. Why is she so nice? It's not normal. Maybe it's because she doesn't actually know me yet. Once she does, she and Lena will surely send me away. And I won't blame them. A group home wouldn't be too bad; I would only have to live their until I'm sixteen and can get emancipated. I just hope to God that Bill won't send me to juvie. Juvie is the absolute worst. I don't think I could make it in juvie. I realize that Stef is staring at me, so I quickly nod my head. She still looks at me though. Shit. She must've noticed that I haven't said a word since our conversation. Oh, well. Maybe she'll just send me away sooner. Not that it matters. I'm going to go to juvie or a group home at some point, so it doesn't really matter when it happens.

"Jude, you okay?" Stef asks after a second. I nod my head without thinking. As if she cared. She actually sounded concerned though. That's wierd. She doesn't even know me, so why would she even care? Today is one of the most confusing days of my life.

"Okay...how about you get to bed? You look exhausted," Stef says gently, before leaving me in the unfamiliar room and slowly closing the door behind her. I'm relieved that she didn't ask about the bruises. I hate it when people ask. At my old school, everybody asked me about the new sets of bruises I got almost daily. They were usually from the foster fathers, but these bruises are from the older foster brother. He was 19, and let's just say he didn't like me. At all. It doesn't matter though. None of it really matters at this point. I shuffle towards the bed that Stef said was mine and lay on top of the navy blue covers, staring at the ceiling, letting my thoughts consume me. I don't get it. Why wasn't I placed here after Callie got adopted? Did Callie even try to find me? Or did she just abandon me without a second thought? While I was in juvie, the state appointed me a therapist. Her name was Leslie. I only saw her a few times, but she was able to figure out that I'm pretty fucked up in a very short amount of time. According to Leslie, I 'suffer' from 'severe' abandonment issues, 'severe' seperation anxiety, and generalized anxiety disorder. Yay. Being me is fun. Note my heavy sarcasm. Before I know it, my eyelids are slipping shut and my world turns dark.

I wake up to the sound of talking. People talking loudly downstairs. I notice that somebody put a blanket over me, and I immediately kick it off. Why are these people so...nice? It bothers me. I stumble to the bathroom and lock the doors. I glance at myself in the morning and I want to throw up. I'm so fucking disgusting. No wonder nobody loves me. Besides my obvious hideousness, I have black bags under my eyes and my black eye looks even worse today. I pull up my baggy t-shirt to check on my ribs. They look worse today. Half of my torso is black and blue, and it hurts to breathe. I just hope that it will go away eventually, cuz you kinda have to breathe in order to live. I make myself look as presentable as possible and then walk downstairs, feeling six pairs of eyes on me the minute I step into the spacey kitchen.

"Hey, Jude!" Stef says enthuisiastically, showing me to my seat which is (luckily) directly next to her. I sit down and look around. Lena, Stef, and Mariana are smiling at me. Callie's looking down at her plate, and Jesus keeps glancing at my black eye. Brandon is writing something down on paper. Something for his music, I think. Lena hands me some toast, and I slowly take a bite. Lena smiles at me, before turning her attention back to the other kids.

"Okay, guys! What are your plans?" Lena asked her four children.

"I need to get this right, so I'm staying here. If that's cool," Brandon said, glancing up from his pile of paper.

"Yeah, of course. What about you, Miss Thang?" Stef asked. I assume 'Miss Thang' is Mariana. I doubt anyone calls Callie that.

"Me, Jesus, and Callie are hanging out with Ximena and Poppy. They have derby today so we're gonna watch. Speaking of which, we should probably leave," Mariana says, looking at the stylish watch sitting on her petite wrist. Callie and Jesus get up, saying quick goodbyes. Brandon gets up a minute later, heading up to his room, muttering 'I need to get this right' on his way. Seconds later, the sound of a keyboard being played floats down to the kitchen. I finish up my toast and listen to Stef and Lena attempt to make small talk. I guess it's good they're trying, but I really don't care about the weather. I get up and clear my plate, taking care of everyone else's plates as well.

"Jude, you don't have to do that, you know," Stef says once I begin washing the dishes. I just shrug. Stef suddenly gets a phone call, swearing under her breath after she hangs up.

"Lena, honey, I'm sorry. But I gotta get to work, there's a new case," Stef says, sighing deeply.

"Stef, don't worry, it's fine. Maybe Jude and I could go get some new clothes and stuff today." Lena says, smiling at me. They smile too much. Why are they so happy? Next thing I know, I'm sitting in Lena's car, heading to some department store.

"Where do you work?" I ask suddenly, clearing my throat.

"I'm actually the principal at Anchor Beach Charter. The school all the kids go to. You're starting there next week," Lena says, smiling slightly.

"What does Stef do?" I say quietly. I don't want to start school. I'm too fucking stupid for school. I've been to who knows how many schools in my lifetime. Too much to count on one hand. And the kids there either hate me or pity me. Every school I go to, I'm automatically labeled as the gay foster kid who can't do anything right. It's getting kinda old at this point. Why can't I just be Jude?

"Stef just got promoted to detective," Lena says casually. Wait, Stef's a cop? I don't have a good history with cops.

"So, how are you? How are you really?" Lena asks after a few moments of silence. I want to say 'I'm fine', but am I? Am I really okay? Nobody's ever cared to see if I'm actually okay, so why is Lena any different? I hesitate to answer, and I'm saved from answering that complicated question when Lena pulls up to the store.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, guys, I know it's short and I know it's been a long time. I'm sorry. Life's been busy. I've been stressed. Which is no excuse but still. Thank you to all of my new readers, and all my old ones, too! This will not be a Jonnor story, it will be Joah. And i tried really hard to make Noah act like he did on the show, but I'm pretty sure I failed. Leave any comments/questions/criticisms in the reviews!**

I'm freaking out. Absolutely panicking. Today is my first day of school. Callie and the other kids go to the same school, and so does Lena, so that's good. I guess. But school's never been easy for me. Even before I was put in the system, I struggled. With the grades and with the people. People just don't like me. It's okay, I've accepted it. But, still. It's always been hard not having friends. I'm in the front office right now, where Lena dropped me off. Apparently somebody from my grade will come here to 'show me around'. Lena wants be bonding with actual people. I don't want to, but hey. She's giving me food and a place to live, so who am I to complain? I think everyone is expecting me to be all sad and emotional about Callie, but I honestly don't care. Like, sure, I was surprised when my foster home #14 turned out to be Callie's forever home. Yeah, I was upset for a little while. But it's her life. She obviously forgot about me, and that's okay. She's happy. She has a family. I don't. But like I said, that's okay. I've survived without Callie for over six years. It's not like I suddenly need her. I don't need anyone. I've never really had anyone, and I'm still alive.

"Jude Jacob?" the lady at the front desk says. Her name tag says 'Ms. Martinez'. I awkwardly stand up and stumble towards her. There was a boy standing at the desk. I must've not seen him come him.

"Jude, this is Connor. Connor Stevens. He'll be showing you around." Ms. Martinez says, beckoning towards the tall boy. He nods at me, his hazel eyes meeting mine. I stare at him for a second, and then look down at the ground. I wordlessly follow him into the hallway.

"So...this is the science classroom. Mrs. Chapman's pretty cool, I guess." Connor says, shrugging his toned shoulders. A few minutes pass with no sound except for Connor's commentary about various classrooms and teachers.

"You're name's Jude, right?" he asks. I nod my head, still not daring to look at him. "Well, nice to meet you." He awkwardly finishes, leaving me at my new locker. The bell suddenly rings, and he rushes off to his next class after a quick goodbye. I doubt I'll ever talk to him again. Nobody ever stays. A stream of students trickle out of class, crowding the hallway. Too many people. I don't like people. I rush towards the bathrooms, trying to get away from all the stares. I hear whispers: "What's wrong with his face?" "Another new kid." "I heard that that's Assistant Principal Adams' foster son." I finally reach the bathrooms, locking myself into one of the stalls. It smells like shit. Literal shit. But it's better than out there. It's safer in here, away from all the students. I lean against the wall, catching my breath. If I could stay here, I would. But I don't want Stef and Lena mad at me for missing my first class of my first day. I duck out of the stall, my eyes fixated on my worn out Converse. I smell something, though. Weed. I glance up, and see a boy, not much older than me, casually leaning against a sink, smoking. Jesus, he's cute. Way cute. I haven't gotten high in forever.

"What's up?" the kid says, waving at me, a slight smirk forming. I just nod at him. It's quiet for a second, me just staring at his freckled face,

"Take a picture, it will last longer," he says, his smile growing wider. I blush, and turn to walk out. The nicest ones are usually the most dangerous. "I'm just kidding, dude. You won't tell anyone about this," he says, gesturing to the pot in his hands, "right?"

"No, of course not." I mutter.

"Good. My name's Noah. What's yours?" he says, his adorable smiling still on his face.

"Jude. Jude Jacob."

"Well, nice to meet you, Jude Jacob. You better get to class. You don't want to be late." he says with a wink. I nod, still blushing, and leave just as the tardy bell rings. Shit. I'm late. I don't know why I suddenly care. I don't usually even turn up to school half the time. I slip into my Language Arts classroom and sit down, trying to be invisible. Luckily, I succeed. I spend the rest of the day just slipping in and out of assorted classrooms. I see Connor a few times, but he never stops to talk. Unfortunately, I don't see Noah again.


	5. Chapter 5

"Jude," I hear someone say. I glance up from my overly complicated (and completely useless) math homework. Great. It's Callie. I haven't said a word to her since I arrived at the Fosters about a week ago. There's nothing I want to say to her, or anyone else for that matter. Stef and Lena keep giving me these...looks. But I know they don't really care about me. The only reason I'm here is because of Callie. Plus, why should two random women give a shit about me? I ignore Callie, like always, and continue doing my homework.  
"Jude!" Callie says a little louder. I hear a chair being pulled out, and the table shakes a little bit. "Jude. We have to talk about this."

"About what?" I ask.

"This. All of this. Everything. I know you don't want to, but we have to."

"No thanks. I have homework.

"Homework can wait." Callie says, this time sounding a little frustrated. I sigh, leaning back in my chair and pushing my homework away. It's not like I care about whether or not I pass math.

"Fine." I say, glaring at her. "Talk."

"Jude, I know you're mad. I know you're upset," Callie starts. I scoff. I'm not upset. I honestly couldn't care less that she was happy while I was stuck in abusive homes.

"I'm not upset, Callie." I say, voicing my thoughts. "It's just that I don't see why Stef and Lena are keeping me here. You don't like me, I don't like you. They don't like me, and I don't like them. It's only a matter of time until they send me away."

"We like you, Jude! And I love you. Always have, always will, even though I haven't seen you for years. And Stef and Lena aren't like that. They wouldn't just send you back."

"That's what you think."

"No, it's what I know. Stef and Lena care about you. More than you know." Callie says, reaching for my arm. I flinch, scooting away.

"Was it that bad?" Callie asks, her dark eyes looking sad.

"What do you think?"

"I...I don't know. But you can talk to me!"

"No, Callie. I can't. You wouldn't understand. Nobody would."

With that, the conversation's over. She sits there for a minute, staring at me, before finally going away. I finish my homework and head to Jesus's room. Luckily, he's at wrestling practice, so I have the room to myself. I plop down on the bed, finding my beat-up MP3 player that Bill gave me a few months ago deep inside my pocket, and put my earbuds in, blasting angsty music. I don't know why I'm being so mean to Callie. She loves me, and deep down inside, I know that I love her. I just don't know if I can forgive her. I would get if she got adopted and looked for me, but she never looked for me. Maybe she tried, at first, but in the end, she gave up on me. I never gave up on her. I think I fall asleep, because the next thing I know, Stef is shaking me awake, gently pulling the earbuds out of my ears.

"Hey, buddy. It's time for dinner." she says, her voice never losing her kind tone. I get up and start walking out the door, but Stef stops me.  
"Jude, honey, I know we don't know you too well. But Callie loves you. She never stopped looking for you, and she never stopped loving you."  
She's probably right. But maybe she's just saying that because Callie asked her to. I meet Stef's piercing blue eyes, and for some reason I get the feeling that she's telling the truth. I start walking again, this time a bit slower. I sit down at the table, where Mariana and Jesus are having a heated discussion, Brandon is simultaneously looking at a book and eating, and Lena and Callie are immersed in conversation. Callie glances at me, giving me sad doe eyes before returning to what she was saying to Lena. I eat a few bites of my food, muttering a 'may I be excused' before walking back upstairs. I see Lena and Stef look at each other as I walk away, but I don't care. All I want to do right now is sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Two chapters in two days? That's crazy. Sorry it's short. Most of these chapters will probably be short, because I just can't write long chapters. Someone commented about wanting more Callie and Jude interaction, so here you go. Next few chapters will probably involve the other siblings more. Thanks for reading! Leave any comments, criticisms, compliments, and ideas in the reviews.**

Third-person POV

"Mom, I just...I don't understand. We used to be best friends. I remember he used to follow me around everywhere, and I thought it was so annoying. Now, I would do anything for him to just talk to me." Callie said, burrowing her face into Stef's shoulder.

"I know, sweetie, I know," Stef said in a comforting tone, rubbing Callie's shoulders. "Just...just give him time. I know it's already been a couple of weeks, but maybe he just needs more time. I rememeber when you first came here. You barely spoke for weeks. You eventually opened up, and hey, look at us now!"

"Yeah, I guess. I just want the old Jude back again." Callie sniffled, wiping her tears from her eyes. She clumsily left Stef's embrace, telling her mom that she was going to go and try to talk to Jude again. She walked upstairs, being welcomed by an eerie silence. Jesus was out with his girlfriend, and Mariana was out working on her S.T.E.A.M. project, with Brandon over at Mike's house. She slowly approached Jesus and Jude's room, knocking on the wooden door.

"Go away." Jude yelled from within the room.

"It's Callie," Callie yelled back.

"Ok. Still go away," Jude said. Callie ignored his requests and slowly opened the door. There was Jude, sitting on his bed, one earbud in and the other out. His face was red and splotchy, like he'd been crying.

"What do you want?" Jude asked, rolling his eyes. Callie sat in the computer chair near the bed.

"To talk. That's all." Callie said quietly.

"We already talked."

"No, I mean, actually talking. That didn't count."

"Yeah, ok, whatever." Jude said, but he took out his other earbud and turned his attention to Callie. "So? What do you want to talk about so much?"

"What happened to you?" Callie asked, scooching the chair a little bit closer to her little brother.

"When?" Jude asked, sighing.

"Where did you get those bruises from?" Callie asks, motioning to Jude's scarred face.

"My old foster brother. There, you happy? I told you something." Jude said snarkily, biting his chapped lips.

"How many other homes were you in, after we got split up?"

"Nine, this is ten, plus juvie." Jude said, glancing down at his hoodie sleeves.

"Why were you in juvie? What did you do?" Callie questioned, sounding shocked. She knew that Jude hadn't had the best of luck after they got split up, but Jude in juvie?

"I stole some food, because I was hungry after I ran away from one of the homes." He looked sad as he recalled his past.

"Oh, Jude, I'm so sorry." Callie said, sounding guilty.

"So you've said." Jude said coldly, his blank masked put back on his face.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything to make it up to you?" Callie asked desperately, her high voice sounding even higher. Jude just shrugged, not meeting Callie's eyes. Before Callie knew what was happening, Jude had burst into messy tears, hiding his face in his sleeves. Callie slowly moved over to the bed and sat down next to him, hugging him. Jude stiffened for a moment, before giving up and falling into her embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm actually updating. You guys proud? I honestly have no idea where this story is going but whatever. Someone reviewed and said they wanted Jesus to defend Callie and I loved that idea, so here it is. Thanks for reading! Leave any ideas, compliments, comments, or criticisms in the reviews.**

 **-E**

Jude P.O.V.

The next morning, I refuse to look at Callie. I can't believe I cried in front of her. I'm so fucking weak. And I let her hug me! What's wrong with me? I stumble downstairs, in my ripped jeans and black hoodie.

"Hey, Jude!" Callie chirps cheerfully from her chair at the kitchen island. I don't say anything.

"The Beatles!" Lena says as she finishes scrambling eggs at the oven. I just roll my eyes. Seriously? I plop down at the only empty seat, which is right next to Callie. Brandon, Jesus, Mariana, and Stef are already seated, talking about who-knows-what. Lena places plates of bacon and eggs in front of everybody, except Mariana who instead has a bowl of oatmeal. Something about the eggs not being cage-free and the poor pigs.

"Thanks, Mama," Callie says sweetly, smiling up at Lena. I roll my eyes again, staring down at my full plate. I pick up my fork, shuffling the eggs around. I can feel Callie's eyes on me. A few minutes pass, everyone at the table constantly chattering with each other.

"Jude, you should eat," Callie says to me.

"I'm not hungry," I say, still looking at my plate.

"Well, you need to eat," Callie says after a moment of tension between us.

"I said I'm not hungry," I mumble, burrowing myself deep in my hoodie.

"Jude…" Callie says, STILL staring at me. She acts all concerned, as if she really cares. It honestly pisses me off.

"You're not allowed to do that!" I say loudly. Now everyone's attention is on us. I finally meet Callie's eyes. "You can't just pretend that you care about me, now what I've come and ruined your new life. You can't do that!" Everyone stares at me in shock. I aggressively push my chair back, getting up. Callie stands up with me, grabbing my arm.

"Don't fucking touch me." I say angrily. She doesn't let go. "Let. Go." I say as aggressively as I can muster. She still doesn't budge. I pull my arm back forcefully, pushing her away as I do. Maybe I pushed too hard; I don't know. But the next thing I know, Callie is on the ground, Stef is yelling, and Jesus has punched me in the face. I steady myself, the force of Jesus' punch making me lose my balance. Jesus stares me down, his dark eyes narrowed. He grabs the front of my hoodie, making sure I can't run away or fight back. Even though I'm tall, he still has a couple of inches on me.

"Leave her alone. You ever hurt her again and you're dead. Got it?" Jesus says quietly. I nod, breaking eye contact. He lets me go, and I stumble into the hallway. I feel another bruise forming on my face. I open the front door and leave. I hear yelling from inside. I speed up my pace, walking along the sidewalk. I turn around and see Callie watching me leave. I smirk, giving her a half-wave. Then I start running. I know if I don't get out of here soon, I'll either have to go back and face Callie and Jesus, or I'll go back to juvie. I'd rather not. I hear someone's footsteps behind me, so I speed up. I'm assuming it's Callie. I run for about 5 minutes, before finally slowing down. I have a few quarters in my pocket, so I hop on a bus. I don't know where I'm going, but anywhere is better than here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, I know. I promised weekly updates, and it's been like a month. I'm sorry, I have no excuses. Also, I don't have experience with homeless shelters, so I don't know if this is accurate, but I tried. If it's not, I'm sorry! Thank you for reading, if you have any ideas or anything leave a review. I take criticism.**

 **-E**

The bus seat is hard and uncomfortable. Luckily, the bus isn't cramped, but its still very uncomfortable. My phone rang almost the minute I stepped on the bus. A call from Lena. A few moments after the first call, Callie calls, and then Stef. I turned my phone on do not disturb after a few dirty looks because of the constant ringing. Eventually, the bus hits the end of the line. I hop off, chucking my old phone in the trash can, just in case. I don't want Callie hunting me down.

I'm not going back. Nobody can make me. I'm almost 14, and I've heard that some places hire 14 year olds. Or I could go back to another crappy foster home. Anywhere without Callie is where I want to be.

It's getting dark now. Dark and cold. I still have my hoodie on, so the bitter chill doesn't bother me much. I look around the street; there's multiple fancy-looking restaurants and a couple bars. No place for someone like me. I continue walking, keeping my hooded head down.

Before I know it, it's pitch-black out. I don't know what time it is, but most of the stores I pass have the lights off. It must be pretty late.

I look up, seeing a sign for the building to the left of me.

'Youth Shelter'.

I've been to a couple of those before. They can be okay, but most of them suck. Like really suck. I might as well check it out. Maybe I can actually get a bed tonight. Highly unlikely, but possible. I slowly walk towards the door, cringing when the bell dings as I open the door. It's brightly lit and practically empty.

There's an older woman at the front desk, two kids sitting on a couch, and...Noah?

Noah, also known as Stoner Boy, is sitting at a desk, staring at me.

I shuffle up to the front desk, ignoring Noah's gaze.

"Hello, how can I help you?" the lady chirped. I notice her name tag. Thalia.

"Um...this is like a youth center, right? Like a homeless center?" I mumble, blushing slightly.

"Yes, sort of. We offer support for homeless or underprivileged minors. We do have some places to sleep, if that's what you're wondering." Thalia says loudly, drawing the attention of the two kids. They stare at me. I stare back.

"Ok." I say, going to sit on a couch. I can feel Noah's piercing eyes on me. I sit down and put my headphones on, blasting my music from my (almost dead) MP3 player. It's 8:47 P.M. If Stef and Lena even bothered looking for me, they would've already given up. Either that or they're going to give up within the next hour.

I don't get why they would bother.

I messed up everything. They don't want me back, and I don't blame them.

A few minutes pass. The TV is on, and the other kids are watching it.

One of them is a girl. She looks around 16 years old. She has dark hair, dark makeup, dark clothes, dark everything.

The other is a boy. He looks like he's nine or ten.

Funny.

They remind me of me and Callie.

Before everything went bad. Or worse, I should say.

My MP3 player dies. I sigh, tucking it back into my pocket. The TV is blaring some sort of cartoon. I don't care enough to see what it is.

I glance around, not seeing Noah anywhere.

Thank God. He probably left. That would've been an awkward conversation.

Why was he here anyways? He's not poor, I can tell by what he wears.

I would have asked him, but again, that would've been pretty awkward.

Suddenly, Thalia walks over.

"Okay, guys, lights out. You can sleep on the couches, if that's okay?" She says, still speaking in an annoyingly loud tone.

The girl nods, and I shrug. I really don't care.

There are 4 big couches out here, and a few armchairs and beanbag chairs.

I claim a couch, and the other kids claim another one.

It's silent, except for the tapping of Thalia's keyboard. She's still at her desk, keeping her eye on us.

The main lights are off, but Thalia has a desk lamp on.

I curl up and try my hardest to fall asleep.

What if Callie hates me? I mean, I don't like her, at all. But I think I still love her.

But what if she doesn't?

What if she lied, what if she never looked for me?

What if she had never wanted me?

What if I was the reason for everything going wrong?

What if?


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys, another update. I updated/edited Chapter 5 to take away the mentions of Jack, as he is introduced in this chapter instead. It's taking me so long to write this so sometimes I get confused. If you see ANY factual errors (or other errors) PLEASE tell me. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy. Leave any ideas or anything in the reviews. And hey, I wrote a kind of long chapter!**

 **-E**

My feet hurt.

I've only been walking for a little under an hour, but still.

I left the shelter right after I woke up.

I'm hungry.

It's okay though.

I've been hungrier before.

I'll survive.

I walk down the street, trying my best to avoid being shoved into. There are too many people. Why does San Diego have to be so big? I look around. There are lots of cafes and coffee shops with people inside. Lots of office buildings that have just opened up for the day.

I see a McDonald's and start walking over there. The food is cheap and sometimes the workers pity you and give you free stuff. Even if I don't get any food, I can hang out there for a while.

I step into the fast food restaurant, letting the glass door close behind me.

It's not very busy, which is good.

I pull out my spare change and count it. $1.19

I go up to the counter and order a small fry and a cup for water.

I sit down and finish my fries off in seconds. I refill my water cup countless times.

I should keep walking. But I don't want to. I'll probably regret this later, since if I don't walk now, I'll have to walk at night.

Which is good, because there are less people in the streets.

But it's also bad because bad things happen at night.

I don't know how long I've been here.

More people are coming in now. Maybe it's lunchtime?

"Excuse me, sir, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave," a tall, young McDonald's employee says, pointing at a sign by the door that says 'No Loitering'.

I sigh, looking down.

I really don't want to leave.

"Sir?" the worker says again, staring at me.

"Could I not?" I ask quietly.

"Do I need to get the manager?" he asks, sounding annoyed. I don't answer. Get your manager, I don't care. The worker leaves wordlessly.

Seconds later, he's back with a bald man in stow.

"I have to ask you to leave," the bald man said in a rough voice. "Or do I need to call the police?"

I get up and leave.

Fuck them.

I put up my hood and start walking.

Again.

I find a few quarters on the ground and pocket them.

I kind of regret leaving Callie.

I mean, yeah, I'm mad at her, but at least when I was with her, I had food and a warm bed.

I should've just dealt with it.

But of course, I decided to make a big deal out of everything and I made the one person who might've still cared about me stop caring.

I would be shocked if Callie still cared.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a very loud sound that seems like it's coming from directly beside me.

Sirens?

Yes. There is a police car next to me. I stop walking and stare at the car.

It parks on the side of the street and two men come out in cop uniforms.

One's an old man with barely any hair.

The other is a short, dark man with dark hair.

"Are you Jude Jacob?" the old man asks me. I shrug. Am I? The shorter man walks towards me and pulls out a picture.

A picture of me.

Did Stef and Lena report me as missing?

Fuck.

"Pretty sure that's you." the short man says. I just nod, giving up. There's no denying it that the boy in the picture is, in fact, me.

"You're not in trouble, I don't think, we just need to bring you to the station, a social worker is waiting there for you." the short man says. I shrug, following him to the police car.

The old man opens the door for me, and the minute I sit down, he slams it close. Harsh.

"So, why'd you leave?" the short man says as he sits down on the passenger seat. The old man gets in and starts the car. I don't answer. Why would he care? "I'm Mike, Stef's ex-husband. I've known your sister Callie for years."

Stef's ex-husband? But she's a lesbian? Right?

I'm thoroughly confused.

"Cool." I say. Mike turns around and looks at me.

"You know, about a year after Stef took in Callie, she told Stef and I about you. She wanted us to find you. I remember she cried for hours after we couldn't find you." I'm surprised.

"So I don't know why you left, but I know Callie loves you, she never stopped loving you. She always talks about you, you know. And I know Stef and Lena care about you."

"Okay." I say. I don't know how to respond. If I start talking, really talking to him, it would turn into a therapy session.

That would be very awkward.

Soon, we arrive at the police station. The old man gets out and immediately walks outside. Mike waits for me.

"Do you want to see Stef?" he asks as we head inside.

"No." I say. I really, really do not want to see Stef or Lena or Callie or anyone right now. Not now and probably not ever.

Mike nods, and the silence returns. He brings me to a room with nothing but a table and a couple chairs in it.

"Want a snack?" he asks.

"Sure, thanks," I say. I think I like Mike. He doesn't really ask questions or pry into my life like most adults do. He brings me a Pepsi and a bag of chips, and I thank him. He tells me that someone will be here to talk to me in a minute and then he leaves.

It's probably Bill again.

He's been my social worker since Callie and I got split up.

I sort of think that's why I never found Callie until now. Before we got split up, we had the same social worker. But after everything, we both got another one. And in the system, communication isn't really a thing that happens.

I finish my snack and wait, fidgeting with anything and everything.

I've never been good at sitting still.

A few minutes later, a woman dressed in fancy clothes walks in.

"Hey, Jude!" She says cheerily. I glare at her. She's too...happy. And her teeth are too white and her hair is too perfect. "My name is Justina Marks, and I'm here to find you a good replacement home." She sits down, crossing her tanned legs. It's probably a spray tan. Nobody is THAT tan.

"So, do you want to tell me what happened at your last foster home?" She says, still smiling.

"Where's Bill?" I ask, picking at my nails.

"Oh, Bill and I both agree that you'll find a better home with me in charge."

"...Okay." I say after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"So what happened at your last home?"

"Um...my sister was there and it was awkward and they didn't want me. So I left." I say in a rush. Justina blinks at me, her smile wavering.

"Well, okay then. I've found you a good home, only about 20 minutes from here. A very nice couple, I've placed another boy there already. I'm sure all of you will get along great. Want to go check it out?"

I shrug.

The cycle begins again.

Foster home #15.

Great.

But honestly, what was I expecting?

I slowly follow Justina outside, ignoring the searching gaze of Mike. God, I hope Stef didn't see me. If Stef saw me, she'd go home and tell Lena and Callie and everyone else. I don't want them talking about me. I want them to forget about me and move on.

Justina's car is black and shiny and looks brand-new. She opens up the passenger side door for me, so I awkwardly climb in. It has new-car smell, too.

"So, there's a boy at the home you're going to. His name is Jack and he's around your age." Justina says as she switches across the many radio stations.

"Okay." I say. I mean, I guess it would be nice to be around someone my age. But I've learned that most people my age aren't exactly the nicest.

It's quiet again. We pull up to a tiny house, and Justina loudly exclaims 'Here we are!' as we get out of the fancy vehicle.

I shuffle up to the door with her and am greeted by an unkempt, overweight man with a scruffy gray beard wearing a white tank top.

Justina reaches her hand out and they shake hands.

"Hey, Jim, we talked on the phone." Justina says in a sickenly sweet tone. "This is Jude. Jude, this is Jim, your new foster dad."

I look at Jim and he looks back.

I don't like him.

"Jack, get down here!" Jim bellows up the stairs.

I hear a quick pattering of footsteps and then a boy appears beside Jim. I assume it's Jack.

Justina leaves and I stay.

I stay and I don't know how to feel.


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow, I'm actually updating! Like I've said before, I'm not exactly sure how the foster system works or how the police system works and all that, so I'm sorry. Jack's gonna become a big part of this story. I'll do p.o.v. of the Adams Foster family next chapter. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy. Leave anything you want to say in the reviews.**

 **-E**

As soon as Justina closes the door and locks me inside, Jim starts walking towards the other room.

I follow him, unsure.

Is Jim a good foster parent? I don't think so. The real question is whether he's a foster parent who doesn't give a shit or a foster parents who cares too much. The one's who don't care are better than the ones who do, usually. Because if they care, they are there to punish you for every mistake you make, even if it's small.

Trust me.

Jim takes a bottle of beer out of the fridge and slams it shut.

"What are you looking at, boy?" he asks gruffly, shoving past me before collapsing onto an armchair and directing his attention to the T.V.

"Nothing," I say quietly. He ignores me. He's one of those parents. I look around the house. It's decent, I guess. Not exactly dirty but definetly not clean. I stand there in the kitchen, not wanting to make Jim mad. I hear snoring from the armchair but still don't move.

Eventually, I hear footsteps from the stairs.

It's Jack.

"Hey," he whispers, walking towards me. I awkwardly wave at him. He motions for me to follow him, and I do.

We silently sneak upstairs into the bedroom that I assume is his.

He closes the door behind me and sits down on the bed. There's another bed; well, cot; in here. I guess we have to share. That's okay.

Jack is a little bit shorter than me, with overgrown brown hair and big glasses.

He's cute.

"I'm Jack," he says after a moment.

"Jude," I say.

"I know." Jack says.

"How long have you been here?"

"About a month. Why are you here?"

"Why are you?" I say back. If he wants to know about me, then I need to know about him.

"You first." Jack responds.

"It's complicated." I say.

"Everything's complicated." Jack says, slightly smirking. I think I like Jack.

"Yeah, everything is. It's a long story, though."

"I've got time."

"Fine." I say after I realize he's not gonna give up asking me. "I've been a foster kid since I was six years old. Me and my sister got split up. I went to a new home. My sister was there; she had been adopted. I got mad, ran away, got picked up by the cops, and now I'm here." I spit out.

"I'm sorry." Jack says, biting his lip.

"What about you?" I ask, shrugging. Jack didn't do anything wrong, he has nothing to apoligize for.

"My dad ran off when I was a baby, my mom died when I was 10. Nobody wants me, so now I'm here." Jack says, voice still rushed but slightly slower than mine.

"I'm sorry." I say, feeling bad.

I'm not the only one who's unwanted.

I guess it's nice knowing that, but I feel bad for Jack.

"It's okay," Jack says, pushing his glasses up.

"So...how's Jim?" I ask cautiously.

"If you're quiet, you should be okay. Just make sure you don't make messes or touch his stuff. Don't go into his room. Ever. I usually don't come back here until late. It's easier that way." Jack says. I nod. Good to know.

"Thanks," I say, making sure my voice is quiet. I don't want to risk anything.

"And I don't really go to school. Justina doesn't really care, as long as I don't talk about it. Jim never enrolled me and I never bothered asking." Jack says.

"Okay." I've missed a lot of school before. I've never not been enrolled in school but there had been some times in the past where I barely went to school.

It's okay, though. I got by,

I'm still here, aren't I?

"Want to go somewhere now?" Jack asks, pulling his shoes on.

"Sure," I say, doing the same. I head toward the door, but Jack shakes his head, pointing to the window. He opens it up and lets me jump down first.

It's not a far jump, but I still don't land right.

I fall down on my back, having the wind knocked out of me. I hear Jack jump down, his feet leaving barely visible imprints in the soft dirt.

"You okay?" he asks, offering a hand to pull me up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just haven't really jumped in a while." I say back, accepting his offer. He pulls me up and we start walking down the sidewalk. It's a nice day out, very bright but not too warm.

"Where are we going?" I ask after we've been walking for a few minutes.

"You'll see," Jack says, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. We keep walking.

Soon, we're at a park.

A skate park, to be exact.

"You skate?" Jack asks, waving to a bunch of people doing tricks on skateboards.

"Never learned." I respond. I had tried, once, when I was about eight. It didn't end very well.

"Wanna learn?" Jack asks.

I shrug. We walk up to a group of boys who all seem to know Jack.

"Hey, guys, anybody have a board I can borrow?" Jack asks after saying his hellos.

"Sure, man, just don't fuck it up." A chubby blonde kid says, handing Jack his beat-up skate board.

"Thanks," Jack says, and then we walk away.

"Are they your friends?" I ask.

"No, not really, we just hang out here sometimes." Jack says, leading me to an empty block of concrete.

I nod, accepting his answer. He hands me the board and tells me to try it out.

I hesitantly take it from him and set it on the ground, unstably mounting it.

Hey, I don't immediately fall.

That's a surprise.

I get the hang of it.

Kinda.

Not really.

But I only fall a few times.

Soon, the sun starts going down, and we're heading back.

We sneak back upstairs and lay down on our separate beds.

I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Fosters P.O.V.**

"Callie? Can I come in?" Mariana says, her heavy backpack in her left hand, while her right hand knocks on her and Callie's bedroom door.

"It's your room too," Callie says, her high voice sounding muffled. Jude had left on Friday, and it was now Sunday. Mariana slips into the room, gently closing the door behind her. Callie layed in bed, scrolling through her phone.

"What are you doing?" Mariana asks, slipping off her shoes and jacket.

"Just looking at photos. What about you?" Callie says after a beat of silence.

"Nothing, now," Mariana says. "Wanna talk?"

"About what?" Callie asks.

"Jude,"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I think we need to. It'll be good."

"Thanks, Mari, but you don't get it."

"Then tell me." Mariana says in an upbeat voice.

"You've always had Jesus with you, right?" Callie asks. She continues speaking after seeing Mariana's affirmative head nod. "So you don't get it."

"Ok. But I get what it's like, to be in the system." Mariana says.

"Just imagine if you didn't have Jesus with you when Moms adopted you. Imagine he was off somewhere else. And then imagine that he came back, a long time after that. Except he's not the same Jesus. That's what it feels like," Callie says, stopping for breath. "Me and Jude used to be so close. Best friends. But now, even when he was here, he wouldn't even look at me! I don't get it, Mari. I don't understand. When did everything get so messed up?"

 **Jude P.O.V.**

I'm in the kitchen, doing the dishes, when the phone rings. I glance at Jack, before he shrugs and continues sweeping the floor. I wipe my soapy hands on a rag and then go to answer the phone.

"Hello?" I say quietly.

"Jude? Is that you?" a voice says almost immediately.

"Who is this?" I say, my voice now a little louder.

"Jude, honey, it's Stef; I found out where you are and I managed to find the phone number."

"Oh. Hi, Stef," I say in an awkward tone.

"How are things? Is it ok there? Are you safe?" Stef says, the words rather rushed.

"Everything's fine. It's all good."

"Ok, if anything ever goes bad, call me on this number, okay? And I just want you to know that none of us are mad. We miss you. Callie misses you."

"Ok."

"Be smart, Jude. I have to go now, but I mean it. Be smart." With that, Stef hangs up, leaving me with way too many feelings that I really don't want to deal with right now. Or ever.

I quickly finish up the dishes and clean up the kitchen. It's four p.m. Jim won't be here until at least ten. I reach my hand into my pocket and pull out a slip of paper with numbers scrawled onto it. Noah had given me his number when I ran into him again after the bathroom incident. I grab the phone, yet again, and punch in the numbers without thinking.

"Hey, is this Noah? It's Jude. We should hang out." I say into the phone, ignoring Jack's questioning gaze.

"I mean, sure. When?" Noah says, his tone slightly surprised.

"How about now?" I say.

"Sure. Meet you at Glenwood Park?"

"Sure," I say.

"And I'll bring the stuff."

I hang up and put on my shoes, telling Jack I'll see him later.

"Don't be stupid," he says, before shrugging again and continuing the housework.

I rush out the door, throwing caution to the wind. Glenwood Park is kind of far, but it's close enough that I can get there in twenty minutes if I walk fast.

I'm there sooner than I thought.

"Hey, Jude!" Noah yells, waving me over to where he's sitting. He's under a gazebo, and the gazebo is surrounded by pine trees. I rush over to him.

"Hey, dude," I say, sitting down on the table across from him. He has a lit joint in his hand, and it's obvious that he's already a little high. He offers the joint to me, and I take it, deeply inhaling. This is stupid. But whatever. We talk about everything for what seems like hours, but I know it's only been a few minutes. We pass around joints until we've been through three. By now, we're both lying on our backs on the same picnic table. Noah tells a joke, and I laugh. A real, true laugh. Before I know what's happening, he leans over, and then we're kissing. And I don't know if it's the weed or just that a boy is kissing me, but I feel alive.


End file.
